


Oh Memories

by AnonymouslyDead



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types, Hannibal Lecter Tetralogy - Thomas Harris
Genre: Hannibal is not ok, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Memories, References to Hannibal Rising, Triggers, Vomit, Will is awkward, Will’s High Empathy, dinner gone wrong, gumbo, references to cannibalism, southern food
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:14:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24441166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonymouslyDead/pseuds/AnonymouslyDead
Summary: Headcanon that Hannibal can’t stomach soups or broths after what happens to his sister.Will doesn’t know this and serves him gumbo.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lector
Comments: 12
Kudos: 103





	Oh Memories

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that this is fan fiction and roll with the concept. 
> 
> If you wanna know what the heck this is about Please note that in the Hannibal Rising book Hannibal got fed Mischa’s broth while he was too sick to realize what it was only for the main villains to taunt him about it later. That’s why I wrote this. When I wrote this, i didnt remember Hannibal cooking or serving soup in the tv show. I got pointed out that he does try to cook soup, but please just roll with the idea.

“Let me cook for you, Hannibal.” Will had said after one of their sessions. Hannibal raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“That’s hardly necessary, Will.” 

“But, I insist. I’m not exactly on your level of cooking prowess, but I do remember a few things from Louisiana that might interest you.” Will had said. Hannibal couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t excited. 

“Very well.” 

Hannibal had been excited right up until he had walked into Will’s house. He walked past Will’s waiting dogs straight to the kitchen where Will tended to a bubbling pot. 

“Hey, you’re just in time. Gumbo’s ready.” Will turned and pulled a bowl from cabinets. He spooned a portion of rice from a waiting smaller pot into it before he poured himself a helping of the grey-brown liquid inside with a heavy plop. Hannibal felt his stomach turn at the sight. 

“Help yourself.” Will nodded. “You saw where the bowls are. Spoons are in the first drawer.” With that, Will walked off to the small dining table on the far side of the kitchen.

Hannibal might have made a quip about leaving a guest to serve themselves, one that he could see Will rolling his eyes at. Instead, he was already focused on psyching himself up to eat. He grabbed a spoon and moved to the pot of rice, serving himself a generous portion. He could smell the tang of seafood mixing with the roux in the pot, a scent he found sickening. 

“...Anniba!” He could heat a small crying out. His stomach protested as he dug a ladle into the pot, because never again. He can’t do this again. He should've never done it at all-

“...You need help there?” Will cut in. Hannibal blinked. It took him a second to realize he’d been standing at the pot trying to control his shortening breath. He swallowed, finding his mouth had gone as dry as cotton. 

“Just admiring your work.” He said. He quickly poured himself some of the soup before moving to join Will. 

Will was already half done with his gumbo when he sat. Hannibal looked at his own bowl, a sea of broth surrounding a crumbling island of rice. Just under the surface, he could see pink poking at the surface. 

“It’s flesh.” His mind intruded. “Not your careful design, but the ravaged work of desperate vultures.” 

He heard Will slide his bowl away. “If you don’t like it, I can get you something else.” 

“No, No, Will. It’s lovely.” Hannibal said drily. Stubbornly, he took a spoonful and shoved it in his mouth. The hot liquid streamed down his throat...almost as if it were forced. He felt his stomach grow heavy, but he focused on chewing the rice in his mouth. He took another spoonful. 

“Hannibal, seriously.” Will said, but Hannibal kept eating. He was a few bites in when Will reached out to stop his spoon. 

Unfortunately, that’s when his stomach dropped. He heaved involuntarily, and hot gumbo liquid welled back up his throat. He bolted up and ran for the bathroom. There, he emptied his stomach, choking on some distant taste on his tongue. 

“Anniba...Anniba...Anniba!” 

Tears involuntarily slipped from his eyes from the strain, but they continued to spill once his stomach had settled. He sat on Will’s bathroom floor, struggling to stem the tears and control his shortening breath.

The past is the past. What’s done is done. He can’t change it. He reminded himself. Slowly, he cake to his senses, his breath evening and his tears finally stopping. He checked himself in the mirror, finding his face a splotchy red. He went about splashing some cold water in his face before leaving to find Will. 

Hannibal heard a retch. It doesn’t take long to find Will bent over a trash can. 

“Are you alright, Will?” Hannibal placed his hand on his back. Will popped back up as if he’d been struck. A string of saliva hung from his lips. He spat it out before heaving a breath. 

“I should be asking you the same.” 

“I apologize. It seems I’ve ruined dinner.” 

Will shook his head. “It’s not your fault high empathy sucks. But still, you could have said no.” 

“But, you went through all this trouble.” 

Will scoffed. “You don’t have to make yourself sick to be polite.” 

“Again, you have my apologies. Allow me to make it up to you.” Hannibal nodded towards his kitchen, waiting for consent. 

Will shook his head. “Hannibal, you don’t have to do anything.” 

“I insist.” Hannibal said back, because being in the kitchen, in his element so to speak, is what he craves right now. Control. 

Will just shrugged. With that, Hannibal took stock of Will’s kitchen. He had basic ingredients like milk and sugar unsurprisingly. He did find vanilla cookies and bananas though which gave Hannibal an idea. 

“Banana pudding?” He suggested. 

“I haven’t had that since I was a kid.” Will said, a small nostalgic smile on his face. Hannibal smiled back before setting out on making it. He buried his thoughts in making a pudding from scratch, measuring out ingredients, mixing them together-

“What exactly happened?” 

Hannibal blinked up from the bowl he was mixing. 

“You seemed miserable since the second you set foot in my kitchen. And no, you can’t deny it; I could practically cut the tension with a knife.”

Hannibal let a beat of silence pass. 

“Too blunt?” 

Hannibal shook his head. “You’re not wrong. I don’t often deal in cooking soups or broths.” Hannibal said slowly. He turned his blended ingredients over with a spoon. “In fact, not at all. I can’t stomach them anymore…since Mischa’s death.” 

“Oh.” Will said. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s quite alright.” Hannibal dug out a saucepan and placed it on Will’s stove. He poured his ingredients into it before pulling out milk. 

“Do you need a hug?” 

Hannibal looked at Will curiously. Will shrugged in response. “This seems like when people usually offer hugs.” 

Hannibal set the milk down and offered his arms. “I wouldn’t say no to one.” 

Will moved forward into his arms. Hannibal let himself envelop Will. He let himself take in Will’s cheap aftershave and the smell of his dogs that hung on his clothes. He let himself enjoy Will slowly hugging back and awkwardly patting his back. He let himself feel the grounding warm of Will’s presence chase away some of the lingering grief in his heart. He enjoyed it for a moment longer and then pulled away. 

“Thank you, Will.” Hannibal said sincerely. Will nodded. 

With that, Hannibal continued cooking and later, they enjoyed a nice banana pudding. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comment what you think and hit kudos if you like it!


End file.
